


Ad Victorem

by lady_libertine



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dubious Consent, Helplessness, Other, Tentacle Sex, Tentacles, anal penetration, both the tevinters and the evanuris were huge perverts, oral penetration, sex with an audience, that time solas got fucked by a tentacle monster and everyone else got to watch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-19
Updated: 2017-01-19
Packaged: 2018-09-18 15:16:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9390566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lady_libertine/pseuds/lady_libertine
Summary: As it happens, the ancient Tevinters were all horrible perverts.  This comes as no surprise, but it is pretty inconvenient, if by 'inconvenient' one means 'someone has to get fucked by a tentacle monster to open this door.'reading the tags is strongly suggested.





	

**Author's Note:**

> so i looked at this fandom and thought, 'you know what we need more of? tentacle porn, but tentacle porn with an audience. also solas getting it from a tentacle monster. and some dubcon/noncon for spice. we need exactly that'

“It still isn’t moving,” Trevelyan said, pushing again on the door. The four of them, Trevelyan, Dorian, Iron Bull, and Solas, were currently locked in some sort of ancient Tevinter ritual chamber and were having absolutely no luck getting out. They had been exploring this ruin, but the minute they entered this particular room, the door slammed shut and no amount of force would open it.

The hall was huge and extravagant, with absolutely no exits except for the single door. Large mosaics and paintings covered the walls, and in the center of the room was an intricately carved dais.

“Trevelyan, if no spell has managed to make the door move as of yet, I am not entirely certain what good pushing it would be,” Solas said, glancing at Trevelyan out of the corner of his eye.

Trevelyan huffed and put his hands on his hips. “Doesn’t do any harm, now, does it?”

“Kaffas,” Dorian muttered. He turned towards the altar at the head of the room. “Well...I suppose we could try doing it the way it’s supposed to be done.”

“Fine,” Trevelyan shrugged. “It’s Tevinter. You look at it.”

Dorian investigated the altar, his expression growing more and more concerned as he did so. 

“I found out what we need to do, I believe,” he said after a moment. The other three came to join him.

“What is it?” Iron Bull asked.

“The parameters of the spell are very specific,” Dorian said. “This temple is to Andoral, the god of slaves, and I suspect this particular one was built by a very particular cult.”

“So?”

“So, the door won’t open unless some very specific needs are met. And one of those needs is someone needs to be offered on the altar.”

“Offered how?” Bull asked. 

“Well--it isn’t a blood sacrifice, that is for certain,” Dorian explained. He flushed and wouldn’t meet their eyes.

“Then what kind of sacrifice is it?”

“It’s--well, frankly, it’s a bit peculiar,” Dorian said. He clenched his jaw, then continued. “It’s sexual in nature. It’s a sex ritual.”

Everyone was silent.

“Wow,” Trevelyan said. 

“Yeah,” Iron Bull raised his eyebrow. “So, what kind of ritual are we talking about?”

“Is it an orgy?” Trevelyan asked.

“You are far too enthusiastic about this,” Dorian admonished. “No, it isn’t. It’s--the spells involved are--well, let’s say _inventive_ and leave it at that. Only one person needs to be involved, which actually gives us a bit less work to do.”

“So...we offer one person on that altar, the spell...happens, and the door will open?” 

“Hopefully, yes.”

“Alright,” Trevelyan stepped forward. “I’ll do it.”

Iron Bull was startled into a laugh. “You really are way too into this,” he said.

“I’m ever so glad to have a volunteer,” Dorian said, voice utterly dry. “Only--ah--” Dorian bit his lip. “A human won’t work. Nor will a Qunari.”

“Why not?” Trevelyan asked. 

“Consider, if you will, who was the most common race to be enslaved in Tevinter.” Dorian said, and they all grimaced, and slowly looked over to Solas, who up until now, had been quietly standing and observing the proceedings.

He scowled at them folded his arms. “I see. Tevinter continues to be quite astonishing.” his voice was icy, and Dorian winced. “So, what must be done, exactly?” Solas asked.

Dorian frowned. “Well, you stand there--” he pointed to the dais in the center of the room. “And apparently the doors will refuse to open until a specific ritual has been performed.”

Solas went to stand in the correct spot. The runes on the dais gleamed a deep violet, but nothing else happened. 

Solas huffed. “How is one supposed to initiate this ritual?” he asked. “And what exactly is its purpose? What is to be gained from this?”

Dorian winced. “Ah--well, this is a very old temple,” he said. “So the purpose is--" he rubbed the back of his head, avoiding Solas' eyes. "Well, it has a lot of language about conquering fallen enemies. Quite a fascinating find, considering its age, but there is a _reason_ only an elf will be able to complete it.”

Solas’ face grew more sour. 

“And you’re sure it doesn’t have anything to do with killing people?” Trevelyan asked. “You didn’t misread it as being more fun than it actually is?”

Dorian shook his head, growing a few degrees paler. “No. It’s--well, the explanation is somewhat complex. I’m not positive what will happen, but it…”

“Yes…?”

Dorian pinched the bridge of his nose. “The ritual is both sexual in nature and the language uses an awful lot of ‘to the victor go the spoils’ kind of phrasing. Must I spell it out for you?”

“Dorian, you are delaying the inevitable,” Solas said, still glaring. “If we are to escape from here--”

“Yes, yes, I’ve got it,” Dorian said. “Bull, Trevelyan, be prepared in case something goes wrong. It involves demons.”

“Demons? Dorian--” Trevelyan and Iron Bull both started at once, but Dorian didn’t let them get a word in edgewise, instead heading straight to the start of the ritual. 

As Dorian began the necessary spellwork, In the air, a shape began to take form, curling over and around Solas. A massive, monstrous beast with a shape that glowed faintly in the dim light of the temple, ten thousand limbs and an amorphous body. Finally, Dorian was finished, and the creature stood in full view.

“What is that?” Trevelyan breathed, putting a foot forward. 

“Get back,” Dorian said, holding an arm out. “If you interfere we might have to start the whole thing over again.”

“But--”

“Just watch,” Dorian snapped. “Solas can handle himself.” he thought for a moment. “Honestly, considering how much he likes spirits he’s probably better off than any of us.”

Solas’ gaze flicked to the three of them and he rolled his eyes. He stood very still, watching the creature. 

_I haven’t had an offering in so long,_ the creature purred, and its voice reverberated in all of them. Solas closed his eyes. _I almost thought I’d been abandoned, but here you are. Such a pretty thing. Where did they find you?_

The limbs of the creature began to caress Solas, curling over his shoulders and chest, wrapping around his legs. Not doing anything yet, just exploring. 

Solas recognized such a thing. Another insult on Tevinter’s side--this was a thing used for pleasure and torment in equal measures in Elvhenan. Solas had no illusions as to what precisely this one was made for. It wasn't precisely a demon, its purpose was always singleminded, and never polluted.

A tentacle wrapped around each of his wrists and pulled his arms back, and he forced himself to stay still. He was pulled back far enough to be off-balance, and he was caught in a dizzying sensation as if he were falling, but the beast did not permit him to do so. 

More limbs wrapped around his legs, his arms, his waist. One even inquisitively crossed his neck, and he stopped breathing for a moment, but it retreated. 

He realized as he looked up that he had been positioned perfectly so he could see the mosaic of Andoral on the wall behind him. He scowled at the implication.

 _Oh, I do like ones that fight_ , the creature murmured, and it was as if someone was right over his shoulder, speaking directly into his ear. The closeness of the sound was unnerving, and Solas couldn't help a tremor going through him. _It’s far more delicious to make you bow than some cowed prisoner._

He didn’t respond, just squeezed his eyes shut. 

Then came the part he had been dreading. The creature began to slide its tendrils underneath his clothes, being gentle in a way he found appalling. Gingerly it removed his coat, pulled off his tunic and undershirt. It went so far as to undo his belt before sliding his leggings off, and unwrapped his footwraps. 

He started to tremble and couldn't stop. Somehow this--gentleness--was worse than if it had just torn his clothes off, the intimacy of it making his stomach clench. It ever so delicately bared him to the room, even taking care to remove his pendant instead of just snapping the cord. The creature laughed at him, running a tendril along his shoulders in a way that would have been soothing in any other situation.

Trevelyan let out a little gasp that made Solas clench his jaw and remember that the other three were still in the room. 

That was part of the point of it. The audience. 

_Shy, aren’t we?_ The beast purred in his ear. He could barely hear it, feeling the eyes of his companions on him. He couldn’t see them, and there was no way he could reposition himself to do so, but he knew they were there.

 _That_ was the point, he realized. It wasn't just that the audience was there, it was that the audience could see him, but all he could see was the god of slaves. 

He sucked in an outraged breath and forced himself to be calm. His heartbeat pounded in his ears. 

He was lifted fully off the ground, and panicked for a moment, hands and feet scrabbling for any kind of purchase. More of the beast’s tentacles wrapped around his limbs, holding him still, and his breath stuttered as he tried to kick, but to no avail. The tendrils effectively immobilized him, so much that any struggle would be impossible. The sensation of them was strange, slick and smooth, but firm and unyielding. They felt almost silken in texture and he shuddered again.

That didn’t stop him from bucking when a tendril caressed his nipple, teasing both of them in an infuriatingly gentle way. His length began to harden, unbidden, and he heart the beast’s low chuckle in his bones.

A tendril pressed against his lips, and at first he gritted his teeth, not wanting to suffer that particular indignity. The tendril was insistent, however, and he realized that the more he resisted the longer this would take.

 _This can be pleasant for you, if you just submit_ , the beast murmured in his ear. 

He opened his mouth.

The tentacle pushed into his mouth, and Solas gagged when it bumped the back of his throat. It was enormous and heavy, not something he was exactly used to. He breathed hard through his nose, his eyes clenched tightly shut. It didn’t really taste like...anything. It was more just a sense of pressure, and blessedly, it didn’t move. It just stayed there, holding his mouth open, as if letting him get used to the sensation. He breathed through it, and eventually his throat relaxed. 

The ministrations of the creature grew ever more intimate, tendrils twining around and around his thighs, over the cleft of his ass, and he flinched, heart pounding in his ears. It ignored his cock for the moment. He clenched his fists, but more tendrils wrapped around his wrists and his fingers, forcing him to relax his hands. 

The only way to deal with such creatures was to let them do as they wished, but the helplessness of his position only made him want to struggle more. The tendrils around his hands were almost worst than the one in his throat.

At length, the creature wrapped an inquisitive limb around his cock, and Solas flinched. He tried to kick as the creature coaxed him into full hardness, but of course that did nothing.

Something pressed against his entrance, and Solas resisted the urge to bite down on the limb in his mouth. He had no idea how the creature would react to pain, and was in no immediate hurry to find out. 

The creature didn’t push in immediately, merely teased him, and he tensed, anticipating what was to happen next. 

Finally, it thrust in, and he let out a muffled cry of surprise. Some viscous fluid on the limb eased the way, and he tried to thrash again, but the rest of the tendrils held him fast. The best he could do was squirm, which just made the limb inside him twist in very distracting ways. He tried to yank his arms out of the beast’s grip, and just barely restrained himself from using magic. That would get them out of here no faster. 

Finally, he was stuffed completely full, the intrusion feeling both unwelcome and traitorously pleasant. He had never taken anything that large before and he wanted to move, to do _something_ , but it was all entirely out of his hands. 

Another limb pressed against his cock, and he whined, such a touch making fire race along his nerves, blanking his mind in a way not even the tendril inside him did. The tendril wound its way around his length, a teasing pressure that made him buck his hips in need, but the touch remained feather-light. 

Solas whimpered around the limb in his mouth, wanting the creature to move, to do _anything_ , but at the same time wanting nothing to happen at all. It continued to just tease, and he arched his back, the stimulation making it hard to think, and with a jolt he remembered again that his companions were still there. He tried to crane his neck to see, but couldn’t. He whined and almost choked, struggling against the myriad tentacles and whined again when all he succeeded in doing was push himself further onto the limb inside him. 

_Oh, calm yourself_ , the demon muttered. _I’ll give you what you need, pretty thing._

The tentacle inside of him began to move. 

Solas gave a muffled cry as it pulled out, then pushed back in, so achingly slow he could feel every inch of it. It pulled out all the way to the large head, then pressed in again. He was keenly aware of just how huge it was, and how he had never taken anything quite that size before. 

Another tentacle rose to wrap around his cock, more firmly now, and he almost cried out, the need to come was so strong, but it withdrew immediately. Solas whined with need, trying to thrust his hips up, and the creature laughed. 

The tentacle pistoned lazily in and out of his ass, making him moan through the limb in his mouth. It sped up, and the one in his mouth began to move as well, pushing in and out and making him cry out in shock. He almost choked and the sheer intrusion of the movement made him shake, though he had been anticipating it. 

The one inside him sped up until the thrusts were going at a bruising pace, and, overwhelmed, tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. He tried to buck his hips, clench his fists, look around, do anything, but he was still held fast, only able to take what the creature gave him. He could do nothing but accept the sensations, and his mind went blank, unable to focus on anything else. 

He felt the tentacle inside him release a fluid, hot and thick, enough like the come of a more familiar lover that he moaned, could imagine that he was somewhere else. There was enough fluid that it leaked out of him, and he whined, feeling it trickle down the back of his thighs. 

The member in his mouth began to ooze fluid as well, something heavy and sticky-sweet, so much of it that he was forced to swallow it down. Fluid trickled from the corners of his mouth, and his face burned, that small detail somehow feeling like the most humiliating detail of all. 

There was more attention paid to his nipples, more teasing and toying, enough to make him squirm and twist. A particularly hard pinch made his back arch, and the demon laughed in his ear again before applying more pressure. He whimpered, trying to somehow move back from the demon’s touch, but of course that was impossible. 

Finally, a tentacle wrapped around his cock, and he could have cried with relief.

He came messily, sticky fluid spurting over his stomach, and he groaned, mind going white for a long, blissful moment. Everything began to slow down, and now the beast, sated, started to withdraw.

At long last, he was set back down, the tendrils releasing their hold on his arms and legs. The tentacle pulled from his mouth first, making him cough and leaving a trail of something like come dribbling from the corner of his mouth. His face was covered in the stuff, and he grimaced. The limb inside him came out next, and he felt fluid ooze down his thighs. 

Exhausted, he curled on his side on the cold stone, feeling empty and boneless. Dimly, he heard the door slide open, but didn’t feel like summoning the energy to stand up. 

“I am--really--very sorry about that,” Dorian’s voice was dim, and Solas only mumbled in response. 

Someone put a hand on his shoulder, and he flinched, sitting up. 

“We should leave,” he said, not looking at any of them. His voice was a hoarse croak, his throat feeling bruised. “Before the spell resets itself.” he tried to stand on shaking legs, and found he couldn’t. 

“Here,” Trevelyan handed him his clothes, that he pulled on as quickly as he could. He also resolved to wash as quickly as possible. 

Bull leant him a hand, and Solas grabbed his arm. He was still shaking and almost fell. Bull sighed and quite easily picked Solas up.

“Come on,” Bull said at Solas’ surprised exclamation. “This’ll be faster.”

Solas sighed, and closed his eyes. “Very true.”


End file.
